


Company

by BashfulGnome



Series: 5 Years of Wrecking [5]
Category: Wreck-It Ralph (Movies)
Genre: Drinking & Talking, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-15 15:35:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16935927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BashfulGnome/pseuds/BashfulGnome
Summary: Tapper's wasn't a bad place for odd companionship.





	Company

**Author's Note:**

> Original post date: Dec. 1, 2017
> 
> Original note: Week 5: Free Week! Since there's no specific focus this week, my final story for 5 Years of Wrecking covers a dynamic I haven't really written much before. Happy reading!

At first, Ralph hadn't noticed the sergeant on his way into Tapper's for a drink. It was a busy evening, and the establishment was filled nearly to capacity with revelers and brooders alike. She sat alone, staring into space, drumming her fingers against the side of her stein. He couldn't tell if she was smoldering with anger or if that was just her resting expression. In the few days since the Sugar Rush incident they hadn't really run into each other alone, and truth be told, he was still a little uneasy around her.

The wrecker turned away and attempted a discreet escape, assuming he was out-of-range of her peripheral vision, but of course he wasn't so lucky.

"Hey."

He froze, slowly turned back around, and forced a grin.

"Hey, uh…there!"

She patted the open seat next to her, still not averting her stare from whatever it was she had been threateningly squinting at. Not wanting to test her patience, he took the seat and waved down Tapper for a round.

A drawn-out silence followed between them. At a far table, Eggman drunkenly giggled at Bowser, who was unsuccessfully attempting to have his drink without wearing it. Ralph groaned. Not the best first impression of Bad Guys for her. He heard the familiar  _bloop-pssh_  of Tapper filling a stein, and reached out his hand to catch his root beer as it slid down the bar.

He noticed she had looked away, in the direction of her men. A group of four whooped and pounded the table in front of their booth seats as another two held an impromptu arm wrestling competition. A seventh Marine sat disengaged, inelegantly sobbing into his empty glass. All of them lowered the volume of their yelling and table-pounding when one noticed their sergeant staring.

"So, um, how's it going?"

She turned and made eye contact with him for the first time during their meeting, appearing as though she had momentarily forgotten he was sitting there.

"Pretty sure we were never properly introduced. Sergeant Calhoun of Hero's Duty." She held out an armored hand.

"Ralph – Wreck-It Ralph, from the game Fix-It Felix Jr., " he replied, returning the handshake. He had expected a first name, but figured he'd learn it eventually.

"Excuse the boys' choir over there." She jerked her head in her troops' direction. "It's been a pretty long day, so I took 'em out for some R&R."

"Oh, uh, no problem." He laughed nervously and glanced at the motley crew of Bad Guys playing paper football with the complimentary bar peanuts.

"So how's the kid doing?"

He suddenly beamed. "Vanellope? She's doin' great! Finally got to be in a real gameplay race the other day." He shook his head and took a sip of his drink. "Man, you should see her go."

Calhoun slightly recoiled at the sudden enthusiasm, but her expression softened a bit. "Good for her. She's a spunky little thing."

"Heh, yeah. I really owe her. Wasn't expecting anyone to come back for me there, y'know?"

"She jumped right through a horde of cy-bugs to get to you. I should've made her a recruitment offer." She chuckled to herself.

Ralph raised his eyebrows. "The little crumb-snatcher didn't tell me that!  _I_  had a hard time fighting those things!"

"Yeah, they had us backed up to the exit. Ammo ran out, so after the kid took off, Fix-It and I were cornered until the beacon went up. Five more seconds and I would've had to fight them off with a standard-issue straight edge." She took a long swig of her drink.

"Yeesh…Felix didn't fill me in on that either." He knew it must've been a close call, but he hadn't heard their half of the story before.

"Dunno why. He was ready to go down fighting and all he had was that hammer. No idea what he was planning to do with it."

He noticed she suddenly looked concerned, clenching her hands more tightly around the stein and furrowing her brow.

"If you don't mind me askin'…how's it going with Felix?"

Another long pause followed, and Calhoun slowly exhaled.

"I'm thinking I'll take a chance on the guy. Told him I'd get back to him about a meet-up when I was ready." She stared into the glass as she spoke, as though it was her conversational partner.

"Ah, I thought you already did. He talks about you all the time, so I figured…" Ralph gestured to her and to the general direction of his home game, then shrugged.

She buried her face in her root beer for a moment before responding. "Don't worry about it, I'm not gonna leave him hanging. I'm–my game's the problem." She paused. "Duty calls after-hours. Gotta make time when there's nothing critical going on."

He nodded, not acknowledging the hesitation. "I'm sure he's gonna be fine with whenever."

"Well, that's a safe bet, then. You know him better than me."

Ralph opened his mouth to respond, but stopped short. "Come to think of it…not really. I dunno, we didn't ever actually…talk to each other until a few nights ago. From the time we were plugged in, I sorta wasn't part of the game after-hours. The Nicelanders didn't like me much so I did my own thing out in the brickpile or–" he swept out his arm, gesturing to their current hangout, "–wherever. Something kinda went down between them and me the other night, and that's why all this happened. Felix came to apologize and let me know it's not gonna be like that anymore."

Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Huh. That explains a lot." She looked up at him, then down at her hands, clenching and unclenching her fingers around the stein as she processed his story. "Sorry about your face, by the way," she finally mumbled.

"Eh, that's just how they programmed me. Can't help it if the character designers thought it was funny or–"

"No, I mean–" she mimed punching herself in the jaw.

"Oh!" He brought one giant hand to his face in recollection and laughed. "You know, I've been thrown off that roof pretty much every day for thirty years, but I can't remember the impact ever walloping me like that."

She groaned and shook her head. "As brainless as your plan was, you weren't as big of a fool as I thought you were. That volcano beacon took a lot of guts. Just don't go spreading any more deadly viruses, or you won't make it back next time."

He smiled sheepishly. That must've been what compliments sounded like from her. "No problem. Sorry for screwing up your first game of the day."

"Nah. That's just another Tuesday with Markowski."

"Hey, I picked the right disguise then."

Calhoun snorted. "Yeah."

For a time—whether a few minutes or half an hour, Ralph wasn't aware—they finished their drinks in a friendlier silence than those before. The sergeant wasn't as terrifying as he'd thought. Well, outside of her game, at least. Maybe it was the root beer, but he hadn't expected her to be so…relaxed. It was nice to talk to someone like that once in a while.

As abruptly as she'd called him over, she stood to leave.

"Welp, time to round up the jarheads. Nice talkin' to you, Wreck-It."

"Same here. See you around."

Ralph watched as Calhoun issued some sharp command of which he didn't know the meaning, and her men followed her out with a grunt of affirmation. The one who'd been crying earlier snatched a few extra napkins off the table and stuffed them in the breastplate of his armor before leaving. Calhoun raised a hand in parting, and Ralph returned a salute.

He considered it the third friendship he'd established that week.


End file.
